


A penny for your thoughts

by TheWeirdDane



Series: Monster fucking [13]
Category: Alien Series
Genre: Breeding, F/M, Size Difference, Teratophilia, Xenomorph (Alien) - Freeform, Xenophilia, Xenozoophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 17:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12041067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeirdDane/pseuds/TheWeirdDane
Summary: With a team that has been killed, your only company on the starship is the Xenomorph... and is that really so bad?





	A penny for your thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! First time writing with Xenomorphs, so there are probably a plethora of mistakes and erros. I also haven't seen the Alien movies, so that probably accounts for some errors as well - I apologize for this!

You keep your shotgun at the ready as you sneak around in the hallways of the giant starship, knowing that the Xenomorph is somewhere out there. The hallways are long and narrow, not to mention partially shrouded in darkness, making it so much harder to scout ahead.

Every little noise gets to you – the metal fans whirring, the occasional thump of a piece of machinery, even your own footsteps and your own heavy breathing.

You haven’t been sneaking around for long before a tingling sensation at the base of your neck urges you to whip around, shotgun held high.

But there’s nothing there. Nothing but darkness and boxes full of god-knows-what.

You turn around again, and just barely catches something a few feet ahead of you, causing your heart to fly into your throat and your blood to rush through your veins at a previously-thought impossible speed. You stop advancing, instead look around. There’s a ventilation shaft above you – a perfect hiding place for the alien monster.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” you whistle between gritted teeth and slowly step forward again, but now the feeling of being watched won’t leave you. The back of your neck prickles, and your mouth is dry as sand. It’s hard to swallow.

What you’re going to do once you find the monster? You have absolutely no idea, but shooting it is a good guess, and was to be expected of you.

But there was something about the Xenomorph. Something that invited to other emotions than sheer terror and wanting to destroy the abnormality. It wasn’t outright _lust_ or _infatuation_ , but something akin to fascination and wonderment.

Though, if you had to be honest with yourself, you wouldn’t mind a piece of action with the Xenomorph.

You shake your head – no, bad thoughts, bad thoughts! – and shift the grip on your trusty shotgun, squeezing it tightly and holding it close to your body.

Then, it’s there.

You hear it before you see it.

A loud, high-pitched shriek somewhere above you, and suddenly, you’re being slammed onto the ground, the Xenomorph incredibly weighty on top of you. For something so lean and fast, it sure is heavy.

The force of the attack forces the shotgun out of your hands and over the uneven floor of the starship, out of your reach, and you curse under your breath.

The Xenomorph’s four fingers dig into your hair and tug your head back violently, and it feels like your neck snaps in two. But it doesn’t, only hurts like a bitch.

Then there’s another screech right into your ear, and you swear you hear the screech ringing for several seconds. You grimace and try your hardest to thrash free of the alien’s grip, but to no avail. Its one hand lingers in your hair while the other has a tight, vice-like grip on your waist.

You try a shrill “Get off me, you bastard!” but just as your thrashing, it’s no use – the alien monster doesn’t listen.

Instead, it growls and lifts you up, screeching into your face and showing its second set of jaws as it launches at your face, but you jerk back as much as you can, just barely avoiding it.

“Not today, you son of a bitch!” you snarl and kick out, a triumphant smile creeping onto your face when you feel your heavy boot connect with the Xenomorph’s stomach, and the monster emits a high-pitched hiss and drops you on the floor.

You land with a heavy thud, groan, and start crawling towards the shotgun, but you don’t get far before the Xenomorph steps on you. It’s a strong foot that presses you down against the floor, squishing you and making it difficult to breathe.

Just as you think that your time has come, the bizarre alien monster lifts it foot the slightest bit, allowing you to inhale greedily, before the pressure resumes.

You manage to growl out “Don’t you know it’s rude to play with your food?” before the pressure disappears again, and you once more fill your lungs with air.

Then there’s silence. You turn your head to look at the monster, your heart thumping loudly against your ribcage, and are surprised to find that it’s watching you. Of course, you can’t be sure as it has no visible eyes, but the elongated, domed skull points in your direction, leaving you to believe it’s watching you.

You risk a glance at your shotgun – it’s _just_ out of reach, god damn it – and then look back at the monster that suddenly seems remarkably stiff and quiet.

Throwing caution to the wind, you lunge for the shotgun as well as you can with a Xenomorph standing on your back, and while your fingers brush against the cold hard iron, it’s not enough to get the weapon into your hands, and you curse.

Moreover, you wonder why the alien has suddenly become so quiet and still. Shouldn’t it be busy tearing out your intestines, or laying its eggs in you, or something equally gross and bizarre?

“To hell with that, it’s time to say goodnight,” you mutter under your breath and stretch as far as possible, your fingertips brushing over the iron of the shotgun and causing frustration to bubble in your chest.

Just as you manage to tug the shotgun closer, the Xenomorph screeches, and in one swift motion, it has torn off your – pretty solid and strong – uniform, leaving you naked and extremely vulnerable on the cold floor.

‘Laying eggs it is, then,’ you think to yourself and stare up at the alien in sheer terror, but also something else. Something you dare not name, out of fear that it might become true, or someone might get to know of it, despite you being pretty sure the rest of your team is gone.

But it’s enough that you have to live with it yourself, live with the knowledge that what you feel isn’t only terror, but also excitement.

You are _excited_ about what is going to happen, and as the Xenomorph tugs away the rest of your uniform, you can’t help a wanton moan, and you arch your back off the floor, your hands going to squeeze your breasts.

Warmth surges through your body and makes you tremble slightly, and as you squeeze and knead your breasts, you feel the Xenomorph stare more intently at you, its massive head tilted slightly to the side. It reaches out for you with its long and sharp fingers – ‘More like claws,’ you think – and effortlessly pushes your hands away to instead cup your breasts itself.

You lean your head back and close your eyes, moaning softly when the monster squeezes your breasts firmly.

“I’m so going to Hell,” you whisper to yourself and bite your lower lip, loving the cold sharpness of the claws against the warmth of your chest. They tug and twist your nipples, a bit harder than what you like, but holy fuck, it’s a Xenomorph doing it, what else could you expect?

Then the monster leans more over you, its elongated head hovering right above your own, and its other hand drags long claws down over your stomach, making you inhale sharply and arch your back again. You feel warmth rush over your body in waves as the monster moves its other hand lower and lower until it’s nestled right against your most private parts, and when it dips a finger – claw? – inside you, you can’t help a contented sigh.

You want this, and you want more, and more, and _so much more_.

The amount of thought you put into this is miniscule – in reality, you should be afraid that it would tear you apart from the inside out, but the only thing worrying you was that it wouldn’t continue its ministrations.

But that fear is quashed when the monster starts thrusting its clawed finger deeper inside you, and you’re bound to sigh and moan as the speed picks up, and for a second you’re actually worried that it might scratch you up and destroy your cunt. But that doesn’t happen – for something so sharp, it’s surprisingly gentle.

As the Xenomorph thrusts its claw into your cunt, you search for something to hold onto, but the only thing you find is the monster itself, and you deem it unwise to grab its long, elongated head. So instead, you spread your arms to either side of you to try and find a crack in the floor you can dig your fingers into.

You find none – the floor, although uneven, doesn’t provide you with what you seek. Cursing silently, you instead go against your better knowledge and grab the monster’s skeletal shoulders, all bony and vaguely slimy skin stretched over said bones.

This causes the Xenomorph to hiss again, but it doesn’t do much more, except plunge another clawed finger into your cunt, making you gasp and whine low in your throat, wiggling and trying to push back against the fingers. You find that this hurt as it forces the claws to press up against your soft inner walls, and stop doing it.

The more the Xenomorph fucks you, the tighter your stomach seems to grow, and the more breathless you become until your breathing is shallow and superficial, just barely getting you the necessary amount of air.

The monstrous tail flicks from side to side, knocking over some canisters and startling you, causing you to clench and subsequently moan throatily while the monster hisses.

It feels almost… natural. You respond to what the monster does, and it does the same. It could be completely normal sex, had it not been for the beast’s monstrous appearance.

At one point – you don’t know how much time have passed – you feel the Xenomorph retract its bony, clawed fingers, and you’re about to whine until something else takes their place.

You lift your head from the cold, hard floor and see that a long tube from between their legs is protruding from a little pouch-like object. It’s long as a human’s leg and roughly the width of a human’s wrist, and the tip is completely round. Along the shaft – you guess this is its cock, and a shudder runs through you – are many ridges and tiny barbs that look malleable. You reach out to touch it, find that they are indeed pliable and most likely won’t hurt when going inside you.

Because if there is one thing you have learned from all your studying on Xenomorphs, it’s that they reproduce like bunnies. And while it is usually only a Queen who can deliver the eggs, there have been evidence that certain males can reproduce as well. Whether those eggs will act the same as those laid by a Queen remains unknown.

Maybe you would be the one to find out?

The Xenomorph leans further over you, crowding your smaller frame against the floor, and positions its cock against your cunt, shrieking loudly and pressing down on your shoulder with one hand, presumably to keep you in place, though that isn’t necessary – you’re here by your own free will.

But then again, you assume that you’re one of the few people – if not the only one – who doesn’t mind mating with a fucking Xenomorph, and so, it’s used to hunting down its prey and having to force it to stay in place.

The head of the cock penetrates you, and though you feel the barbs, they don’t bring you any pain. If anything, they add a strange, wonderful sensation into the mix, and as the cock pushes further and further into you, you reach new heights of pleasure.

You feel so full, and it’s such a good feeling you never want to end, and the ridges and barbs add something new and amazing to it, and you know that if you make it out of this alive, sex with humans will never be enough or be as good.

Then the Xenomorph starts thrusting, and oh god, you’ve never felt so good in your entire life. Drool leaks from its massive maw, dripping onto your face, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, too high on the pleasure of the cock pounding hard and fast into you.

You moan and gasp and writhe on the floor as the cock fills you time and time again, occasionally slipping out only to slam forward and plunge deep inside you once more. Each move makes your stomach tug, and the wet, slippery sounds are proof of how good this feels – you can’t remember the last time you were this turned on.

The Xenomorph occasionally hisses or growls at you, but it doesn’t appear violent or vicious anymore. If anything, it seems almost – _almost_ – affectionate, even going as far as bumping your foreheads together. Not very gracefully, admitted, but what’s to be expected from a monster such as this?

Your heart thumps aggressively against your ribcage, and your breathing comes quick and shallow, your fingers trembling and toes curling.

Then, the alien monster comes to a halt, and you feel the cock bulge and twitch within you, and it takes you a second or two to register that the feeling continues _inside_ you, that you yourself start to bulge and swell.

“W-what are y-you doing,” you stutter and try to crawl back, but in that moment, the barbs get hard, making it hurt like hell to move, and so, you go back to laying still, head lifted to see what the Xenomorph was doing.

And then it hits you – it’s laying its egg inside you.

For some reason, it’s not as disgusting or terrifying as it should be.

In fact, it helps you reach your climax – as the Xenomorph crams more and more eggs inside your fertile womb, you feel the knot in your stomach loosen, and suddenly, you’re light as a feather and nothing matters as a wonderful, _wonderful_ feeling surges through you, making you moan loudly, without a care in the world.

The Xenomorph keeps shoving eggs into you even as you cum, and through the bliss, you notice your stomach starting to swell. Not a lot at first, but as the seconds tick by, it gets bigger and bigger.

And finally, you have the presence to care, and you begin to get nervous all over again. You don’t want to become a host!

“S-stop,” you beg weakly, but as expected, the Xenomorph simply hisses at you and keeps laying its eggs.

Your stomach swells and swells, and it doesn’t take long before it starts hurting, and you wiggle out of discomfort, whining a bit. The barbs retract, becoming malleable again, and you scurry away, holding a hand to your now bulging stomach.

It hurts, and you can feel the eggs jiggle around inside you, making you sick and nervous. You want to push them out, but try as you might, they just won’t budge.

The alien watches you – or appears to be – and cocks its head while its cock – or is it really just an ovipositor? – retract back into its body. In a flash, the monster is gone, the tip of the tail knocking over some canisters that it hasn’t wrecked yet.

You can still hear its shrieking and growling even when it’s no longer in your vision, and though it should terrify you, it instead fills you with a sense of calm and tranquility. Knowing that the “father” is still somewhere out there… it shouldn’t bring you this much relief, but it does.

Yeah, you are _definitely_ going to the innermost circles of Hell.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! <3


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